


Making A New Eden

by Stranded_In_The_Cosmos



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is a bit dramatic, Confession, Crowley is too, How do I tag?, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Misunderstanding, No beta we fall like Crowley, ineffable husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23241361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stranded_In_The_Cosmos/pseuds/Stranded_In_The_Cosmos
Summary: Crowley is busy making something, something very special.That's not what Aziraphale thinks though.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671034
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	Making A New Eden

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt by Nonny: Hmm...otp of your choosing and misunderstandings/confession? :3c or argument/makeup-cuddling?
> 
> (Thank you for the ask, I’ll be doing misunderstanding/confession for Ineffable Husbands)

Aziraphale squeezes the dust rag in his hand. He’s cleaning again. Not because he wants to, or needs to, but because he needs something, anything to do besides think about Crowley right now.

The demon’s been like a flashing light recently. In and present one moment, gone the next. 

It’s driving Aziraphale insane, and if he didn’t know better, he’d beg Crowley to explain. But he does know better, and that’s what makes it worse. He knows why Crowley is dropping dinners and wine nights like moths in flames. And Aziraphale tries to tell himself that it’s his fault he’s not told Crowley, but he can’t help but feel hurt, was some random human more important than him?

And Aziraphale squeezes the rag harder, the frustration and pain threatening to pour out again. 

But he doesn’t let it, instead, going back to dusting his first editions with a bit more force than he thinks he’s using. 

—

Crowley wipes his brow with the back of his dirt-stained hand. England finally decided to be hot for once, quite inconveniently. Of course, he could theorectically make the weather obey his will, but that would take energy that he can’t spare right now.

It might suck balls, but once it was finished, it would hopefully all be worth it. 

The demon knows he’s playing with fire, doing all of this before telling Aziraphale the thing, but if he had to go out, he’d rather go out in style. 

He grabs the red roses, placing them in between the red tulips. 

Crowley might’ve slept through the Victorian Era, but he still picked up on the trend of flowers having secret meanings, saying what he couldn’t say.

He thinks it almost pathetic really, he had it so bad he had to use plants to confess.

At the very least he could hope for is that Aziraphale didn’t see the nervous desprateness of it. That it would charm the angel instead of scaring him off or producing some bad result-

Crowley was drug out of his thoughts by his phone ringing. 

Fuck, he was late again. He should’ve been there over twenty minutes ago.

He gets up and miracles himself dressed appropriately and the dirt off of him, not noticing that he’s left the sweat on himself.

“We can wrap up for the day Fern,” Crowley says to the woman in the violets and yellow tulips. “Thanks for all the help,”

Fern turns around, smiling and covered in dirt. “No problem Anthony, always been a sucker for your love-story, couldn’t not help you,”

Fern has been a lifeline for Crowley recently, not that he’d admit. She’d been giving him the confidence to not give up on this whole infernal plan. 

“Whatever, s’didn’t have to help,” Crowley hates when Fern talks about it like that.

“Doesn’t look like you could’ve done it yourself. Thought you were going to have a blessed panic attack when you told me what you were planning,” Fern snickers. “And who am I to let this be less than perfect for angel,”

“Don’t sssay that,” Crowley hisses, but it has no power. “Just get some tea or something, I’ve got to rush to the Ritz,” He power-walks into the cottage, out of sight.

“Good luck lover-boy!” Fern calls after him. 

—

Aziraphale stares into his wine glass. Crowley is now twenty minutes late. 

Envy may be a sin, but how could he not envy the woman who lies with Crowley? How could he not envy the woman who got to feel that forked tongue or thin lips or rough but gentle hands or-

A loud bang breaks him from thought. He turns to see Crowley practically running to him. 

“A-angel,” The demon pants as he slides into his chair, trying to sit like he doesn’t care while he catches his breath. “I-I was busy with…something, lost track of time,”

Aziraphale doesn’t fight him on that. “Of course, not a problem,”

The demon smiles, and Aziraphale can feel his heart clench. “So what do you want angel? I’m paying,”  
—  
By the end of dinner Aziraphale feels sick. He can see the dried sweat on Crowley, the unnatural smokiness of it could smell nice, if it wasn’t for where Aziraphale thought why the demon had been sweating. 

How had he pleasured that woman? Did he enjoy it? Did he think of doing it to Azira-

“Ready to go drink ourselves silly angel?” Crowley asked, already pulling his car-keys out.

“I think I’ll walk home,” Aziraphale says flatly. 

Crowley seems confused. “Come one, I missed the last wine night and I said I’d make up for it, I even found the good shit from Greece,” He tries. 

“I’m not in the mood for it Crowley, maybe another night,” Aziraphale stands up and begins to walk to the door.

“Hey, angel! I know I’ve been a real prick for the last few weeks, but let me make it up to you,” Crowley pleaded running after Aziraphale. 

“I’m sure you’re quite busy dear boy, so I won’t interfere,” Aziraphale spits, sounding more bitter than he intends, but doesn’t apologize. 

“Really angel, I swear, I’m sorry for being such a cock! I’ve just been really busy and-”

Aziraphale snaps around to stare at Crowley with icy eyes. “I’m sure she requires a lot of your time,” He bites, expecting Crowley to come clean or try and cover it up.

But instead, the ginger only looks confused. “She? Who’s she angel? I’m not following,

“Don’t play dumb Crowley! I know about the woman you keep picking up from your flat building, smiling at her like she’s the most important thing in you life!”   
Aziraphale tries to sound angry, but instead he sound hurt and sad. 

A dawing look of realization begins to cross Crowley’s face. Quickly turning his confused grimace to one of shock. “You-You think I’m, that I’m, I’m sleeping with her?” Crowley stammers. 

“Yes! What else are you doing with her?!” The angel whimpers through the tears that are beginning to slide down his face.

Crowley frowns deeply, saddened by the information. Wordlessly he wraps his arms around Aziraphale, squeezing like it’d push the thought out of the angel’s head.  
“Oh, I’m so sorry angel, so sorry angel,” Crowley whispers into Aziraphale’s ear. “I’m sorry that you got that impression,” 

“W-what?” Aziraphale croaks. 

“I’m going to show you something, I didn’t want you to see before it was ready, but I think it’s about time now,” The demon doesn’t let Aziraphale protest before he’s snapping his fingers, sending the two into the garden in the South Downs Cottage.  
—  
When Aziraphale opens his eyes. He’s in an unfamiliar place. It smells earthy and wet here, not the polluted air of London.  
He looks around, and sees that he’s standing in the middle of a garden of flowers. It’s lit dimly with amber bulbs strung up in crawling vines on a stone fence.

He looks back to Crowley. “What is this?”

Crowley laughs nervously. “I’d like it to be the Eden that never was. Forever happy and loved. But I’m missing something in it,”

“What are you missing?” 

“You. It’s always been you. You are everything that makes anything worth it. That’s why I was bringing that woman around in my car, I wanted Eden to be perfect for you,” Crowley blushes and looks away.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale crumples, he buries his face into the demon’s neck and sobs. 

“Shhh, don’t cry angel, there’s no need. All is forgiven angel,” Crowley pets Aziraphale’s hair. “Just need to ask you one question,”

Aziraphale sucks back a sob. Looking up with watery eyes and asks, “Yes?”

The demon drops to one knee and pulls out a small black box. “Forgive me if this is too fast angel, but I’m madly in love with you. Have been for six thousand years. I’d be eternally grateful if you would stay with me for eternity,” Crowley admits, opening the black box to reveal a silver ring. The design of a snake wrapped around it with bright yellow gem eyes staring at him. 

“So, what do you say angel?”

Aziraphale chokes on his words for minutes, but when he’s collected himself as best as he can, “Yes,” Is all he can say.

Crowley, in a flash, slips the ring on Aziraphale and kisses him like a drowning man finding air. 

They kiss for what feels like eternity, but ends in what feels like a second.

“I love you Crowley,” Aziraphale whispers. “I’m sorry for accusing you of such things. Especially when I never told you how I feel,” 

Crowley kisses him again. “All is forgiven angel,”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment if you can, the make my day!


End file.
